A Stunted Romance
by Phantress
Summary: Edward decides that late is better than never when it comes to Valentine's Day. Pure fluff! Am considering writing a second chapter - you decide! Do read and review! :
1. Chapter 1

"Why are you fixated on this

**Note:** A friend and I did a TwiFic swap. I was supposed to include something about Valentines Day, a peacock and guns. Sorry, darling, the guns just did not quite make it but thanks for trying to make it as hard as possible… chagrining my dazzle and all…

**Dedication:** To Elisa, we're so interTWIned, it frightens me. Enjoy it. And don't worry… this shit could go on aaaall summer long. PS: I stole your Note/Dedication/Disclaimer format. But I took "Author's" out of the "Note" because everyone knows it's the _Author's_ note. Duh.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Edward or anything that comes attached with him. If I did own him, do you honestly believe I would waste one second on my computer?

--

It was a surprisingly warm evening in Forks, but a light breeze still found its way through my open window as I lay in bed, under only the sheet. Edward, reclining next to me, had his cool arm wrapped over me, my head pressed against his chest. I was beginning to feel my breathing slow and my mind go when a pensive tone interrupted me.

"Do you know what I just realized?"

"Hmm," I asked, feeling myself drifting away from the sensation of falling asleep.

"We've never celebrated a Valentines Day together."

This hardly fazed me. The holiday had never really meant much to me. Back home in Phoenix I had joked with Renee about it really being "Singles Awareness Day" and a ploy by the greeting card companies.

"Guess not," I muttered.

I opened one eye to steal a glance at Edward. His brow was furrowed. After a moment, he finally said, "We could celebrate it on August 16th, but… What about June 16?" I saw a smile creep onto his face.

"That's tomorrow," I said stupidly.

"Actually, it's today. It is twelve minutes after midnight," he said, his velvet voice infiltrating my mind as he planted a kiss on my forehead.

"12:12, huh? Make a wish," I said sarcastically."

"So, should we celebrate it today?"

"Why are you fixated on this?" I asked, now completely awake.

"Because it's important," he shot back.

I sighed. Edward really asked very few things of me, but it was ridiculous to give in to such an obscure thing. "We're going to have unlimited Valentine's Days together… and we can celebrate all of them if that's what you want," I argued.

He did not respond, but instead rose from the bed, dragging his arm off of me and walked towards the rocking chair, rounding it and holding the frame from behind. "It's a human experience, Bella. One of many I am robbing from you." His voice was steady and calm, but I could tell that he really was beginning to grow frustrated

"No, it's a _Hallmark_ experience," I mumbled under my breath.

Edward, I could tell, suppressed a smile as he walked back towards me, sitting on the edge of the bed. Sitting up, I sat Indian-style and readied myself to listen to what I began to affectionately think of as "Edwariloquy" or "Monodwards." Regardless of its name, I knew it was going to be a speech.

"Bella," he began patiently. "There are a few theories on the origins of Valentine's Day and none of them involve capitalism. Some credit it to a Greek tradition, others a Roman. St. Valentine was a persecuted Christian who was imprisoned by the Roman Emperor of the time, Claudius II, for not converting to Roman paganism. He refused. While in jail, he supposedly performed a miracle, healing the jailer's blind daughter. Tradition states that he wrote a letter to the girl, signing it "From your Valentine" before going to meet his death."

"Death by sick, masochistic lion?" I asked, laughing.

He shot me a dark look, but I could see the smile in his bright eyes. I had interrupted his history lesson.

"There are many other Valentines too, so no one knows _which _one the holiday is named for. One particularly Valentine performed marriage ceremonies in secret, against Roman law. Another was a martyred Bishop. It goes on; I believe there are seven or eight."

"I'm glad the Catholic Church isn't that confused when it comes to St. Patrick's Day," I sighed dramatically. "Chicago would be in serious trouble come March."

"Serious trouble," he repeated, smirking.

We sat in silence for a moment. Finally, I felt sleepiness trickling back into my brain and reclined backwards, pulling the sheet over me. Without even noticing him stand up, I saw Edward sitting in the old rocking chair, staring at me. Rolling over, I pressed my face into the pillow, hoping he'd come back and join me in a moment.

"Bella," his voice called, stirring the night air around me, "may I take you out for Valentine's Day this evening?"

I remained quiet for a moment, squeezing my eyes shut. I knew it was ridiculous to hope he'd think I was asleep, but it was worth a shot. I even shifted lazily as if to drive my point home.

"Bella," his voice called again.

I paused. I heard him sigh, and the chair creak as he continued to rock. "Fine."

"Promise?"

"I promise," I whispered. Somehow in the back of my mind I knew I was going to regret this.

--

"I knew I was going to regret this," I mumbled to myself as I sat on the vanity stand in Alice's ridiculously oversized bathroom, tilting my head whichever way Alice was pulling at that moment, wincing.

"Oh, Bella," whined Alice, battling with a curling iron. I told her it was when she would be better off to surrender; years of experience had taught me that my hair would never successfully hold a curl. "Why won't you just have fun with it?"

After forty-five minutes, my head had been scrubbed in Alice's sink, conditioned, dried and blow dried. Dollops and "dime-sized" dots of unidentifiable French products had gone from Alice's palm into my hair. From there, the gun shaped blow-dryer blasted stifling hot air into my face as she pulled my hair every which way with a roller brush. Then the hot curling iron, which no description that I could possibly give could possibly capture the experience that was the curling iron.

All the while I had sat quietly – miserably, but quietly – with my eyes squeezed shut.

The make-up had been an entirely different experience. _Dot. Dot. Dot. Dot. Rub that in! _Base. _Blink. Blink. Blink again. Look up. Close your eyes. Okay. Look left. Right. Down. Look down, Bella! Now up. _Mascara and eyeliner. _There, there, there, there and… your nose. _Powder. _Close your eyes. _Eye shadow. _Suck in your cheeks. Because I need to see where your cheekbones are, Bella! Like a fish! _Blush. _Look surprised! Now pucker up, Bella!! _ Lipstick.

"And now—" Alice used her greatest bravado voice to say what I had quickly guessed as an introduction for a small tube of pink sparkles.

"No way," I said, pushing her tube-wielding hand away. "I draw the line at the lip gloss."

Alice's face darkened, giving me what I believe was the most threatening look I had ever received from any Cullen before.

And so it was to be that I wore lip gloss that evening.

Who knew that such a tiny, fairy-like creature could be so bossy and forceful? Looks are deceiving, as is true with all vampires, but particularly Alice.

Looking in the mirror, I could not deny that I was amazed at the difference, though I would have never admitted it. I stepped back from the mirror to look at my new hair and face combined with the clothes I had chosen for myself, the only khaki skirt I owned coupled with a solid blue button down blouse.

Alice snorted behind me. "Bella, did you honestly think I was going to allow you to wear whatever you wanted?" Taking me by the hand, she led me to the window seat by her closet where she had already laid out what I presumed was to be my outfit for the evening.

"Put it on," she ordered, smiling. She stood, satisfied at her great success, her arms folded.

"I don't need help getting dressed." It sounded like a question. I had not yet examined the dress closely enough to be sure I could successfully slip it on.

"Alright," sighed Alice. "I understand you don't want an audience. I'll give you three minutes."

The dress was a dusty shade of blue, strung with topstitched cloth roses that were alternating blue and green with yellow stitching. On the ground, there lay golden kitten heels and on the window sill a small brown beaded bracelet with matching earrings, both with gold hardware. I walked towards the full length mirror and stood for a moment.

"I look… like… a peacock," I informed my reflection.

Musical laughter made me turn my head to the door, which I just noticed was open as four pairs of golden eyes looked at me.

"Wow Bella," boomed Emmett. "You clean up nice!"

"Thanks," I mumbled, feeling blood rush to my face.

Rosalie only looked, her face void of any expression as Alice continued to beam at her great success and glance over at Jasper who gave me a small grin.

"Edward is downstairs," he said politely.

Walking down the stairs, I was aware that four out of the seven most graceful people I knew were watching me endeavor to walk down already difficult terrain for me in a foreign pair of unstable shoes. It was a good thing I had no idea Edward was standing at the base or else I would have certainly lost my footing.

"Happy Valentines Day, love," I looked up from the stairs I had been eyeing so closely only to see my own personal Greek god staring right at me, clad in dress pants and a long sleeve button down shirt.

"This is ridiculous," I said, noting the bouquet of flowers he was holding, beginning to reach for them.

As if he hadn't heard me scoff at the first attempt, Edward took a step backwards, yet continued to hold the flowers out to me and repeated, "Happy Valentines Day, love."

"Thank you," I said, looking into his topaz eyes, catching on to his game.

He relinquished the flowers to me. I hardly had a moment to look down at the dozen blood, red roses in my arms before my elbow was seized by a frosty hand and steered towards the front door towards a June Valentine's Day I could not even begin to imagine.


	2. Chapter 2

So I was just going to have one other part to this, but then it winded up being a little lengthy. So there will probably be a third part, maybe a fourth… because I'm too amused with this to stop, even if it is beginning to be a little bland/plotless.

Anyway, I hope you all enjoy it! Don't forget to review!

I paused to mourn over the blank spot in the Cullen's driveway where I typically parked my truck. It had died on me just three days before. I knew it would not be too long before Edward replaced it and I dreaded the extravagance. His reaction to my suggestion – a used Honda Civic at a CarMax in Seattle - had been enough to tell me that I was in no way going to be involved in the decision making process.

I shivered as I felt a cold arm loop around my shoulder. I met Edward's smile with a quivering chin. He laughed at my dramatics.

"It did not deserve the ending it got," I whispered, leaning heavily on his shoulder.

"Bella," he whispered, joining in my charade, "Truck lived a long, full and happy life. We should just cherish the memories we have with it rather than dwell on what can not be undone." We stood for a moment more, I tried not to laugh. "Would you like me to say a few words in loving memory?" he offered.

"Oh," I snorted, shrugging his arm away. "Don't even pretend you weren't thrilled to see the truck go. I would not be entirely surprised if you had a hand in its end," I accused. The look he shot back was one of feigned shock, though I could see his smirk beneath the guise. "Beloved vehicle murderer," I said in an attempt at a sneer but ended in laughter.

"If that were true," he said, steering me towards the Volvo, "you should thank me, really."

"Oh, really! Why would I that?"

"It would have been a mercy killing, Bella," Edward said in a serious tone, holding the door open for me. "The poor truck was in pain."

"By the way," I began, "where are we going?"

Edward gave me his crooked-smile and without responding, closed the door.

I followed him with my eyes as he walked to the driver's side at human speed. _Human_ everything was obviously the theme for the evening.

"A hint?" I asked, as he put the car in gear.

With a boisterous laugh, Edward pushed down the gas pedal and we were off to some destination unknown to me.

--

The restaurant did not even appear to be a restaurant when the Volvo smoothly turned into what looked like a home's driveway. Albeit, a really flashy residential home.

The stone building seemed to be only one story high with a flat, modern roof, reminding me of an extravagant ranch style house. Pulling up to the front door, Edward parked the car and got out without a word to me. I continued to sit unsure of why we had stopped in the first place. I looked down to grab my purse to be ready, when looking up I saw a strange man in the front seat instead. Before I could react, my door was swiftly opened by Edward who extended one long graceful and pale hand to me. Silently, I stepped out and after a second saw a podium with at least twenty sets of car keys hanging. I could have slapped myself for being so thick. Valet parking. What had I expected? McDonalds?

"Did you get a ticket?" I asked just as Edward was reaching for the door's handle, having refused the aid of a second tuxedo-sporting employee. I only thought of the ticket because I remembered the concept of valet parking introduced to me when I was younger in a movie. The main character, upon returning to the parking lot found that he had misplaced his ticket and was refused the car.

"Bella, this is Canlis," Edward whispered, "they don't use tickets here."

Canlis? I had never heard of it. In my defense though, it was not as if in any of my visits to Seattle with Charlie from past years we had been anywhere that didn't serve burgers and fries.

The allusion of the ranch style home had been deceiving. The front had seemed relatively modest, but the true grandeur could not have been seen unless you had walked in. The back wall of the venue was simply glass, looking out over what seemed like the entirety of Seattle. I could hear faint jazz music in the background, and briefly wondered if there was a live band somewhere I had not spotted yet.

"Welcome to Canlis!"

The greeting had come from a slight, older man dressed finely standing near the bar. I could tell by the hesitant look on his face he was puzzled that we were unaccompanied and quite young.

"Thank you, Mr. Canlis," Edward said smoothly.

Edward stepped forward, saying something to the host. Nodding, he took two menus and began walking towards the back corner of the main dining area. Still looking at who was apparently the owner, Edward took my hand smoothly, tucking it inside his elbow and steered me in the direction of the host.

"I can't even imagine what he thought of us," I mused, unthinkingly.

"'Trust fund babies,'" Edward quoted, looking up as if he was scanning his brain for what he had just overheard from Mr. Canlis' unsuspecting mind.

The host stopped at a table for two in the corner – ideal real estate, I imagined in the packed restaurant filled with mainly older couples, or families some of which were eyeing us. Or, eyeing Edward, more likely.

"I'm sorry, if we had planned this earlier, and not just the night before, I would have been able to book the cache," Edward apologized once we were seated and alone.

"The what?" I asked. But before Edward had the opportunity to explain, our server had arrived for drink orders.

We sat silently for a moment, looking over our menus. You know you're at a nice restaurant when there are no "Wednesday Specials" or any color schemes veering from the beige and black theme, reminding me of a business card. Also, when there are no decimals. The American Wagyu Tenderloin at Canlis simply '72' even rather than 71.99, which I found humorous, in a way.

"Edward, did you work really hard to find the most expensive restaurant in Seattle or do you just naturally stumble upon the most expensive things?"

"It's not," he said shortly, still pouring over the menu. I gave him a doubtful look and held it until he finally looked up, he smiled. "Really," he assured me. "I read Zagat's. It's only the seventh most expensive."

"You read Zagat's?"

"Certainly. That's why I decided _not_ to choose the most expensive one. It would have been too difficult to hide Herbfarm's nine course-worth of food from the waiters who would most likely be slightly insulted and therefore spit in your food. Did you find something you'd like?"

I thought quietly, staring at him before I answered. I could have complained about having to eat in public while he did not – _could _not. I also could have thrown a fit about the prices, or revert back to the complaint of being forced out for the evening in the first place. But, he looked content and I could not bring myself to ruin the moment. Though I was not going to play along completely.

"Alaskan Halliburton, maybe," I said, pointing to it on the menu, smiling.

Edward's look was disapproving, but I could tell he was fighting amusement.

I decided to make amends for my joke by ordering multiple courses. "I think I'm going to start with the strawberry salad, then the Mahi Mahi and finish with the Lemon Thyme Crème Brûlée."

He took my hand that was resting lazily on the table and brought it to his lips, kissing the palm of my hand, folding it and placing it back where it had been.

"You look stunning tonight," was all he said before our server appeared again to take our orders.


	3. Chapter 3

Edward and I had light conversation while I ate, though a significant amount of the food he ordered mysteriously disappeared

Darlings, I can't believe this is going to be four chapters… and I also can't believe some crazy kids have even reviewed it! I love you all, really! Here's part three, and hopefully I can get the last part up later today since tomorrow I'm leaving town for a month!

Reviews are love!

--

Edward and I had light conversation while I ate, though a significant amount of the food he ordered mysteriously disappeared. I made a mental note to watch more closely the next time we went out and figure out how he did it before I completely hailed him as The Amazing Edward, the Magician.

There was a brief moment, after all the plates had been cleared away as I sipped on my coke, where the conversation drifted away. After a time, I looked up and asked whether or not he had paid the bill and was ready to leave.

"Bella, you know you signed up for more than dinner," he smirked.

"Darn," I sighed.

"Excuse me for a moment."

Without waiting for a response from me, Edward stood quickly, pushed his chair back into the table, and walked back towards the front of the restaurant and asked the host something, who nodded curtly in response and disappeared, only to bring back what seemed like a manager a few minutes later. She was obviously an eccentric, middle aged woman who was immediately taken aback by Edward's looks. I put my hand over my mouth to hide my amusement of what I was sure was about to unfold in front of me.

I could not hear them, but I could tell from the smile on Edward's face to the confused and dazed one of the manager that there was some dazzling business negotiations going on. They spoke for less than a minute more until Edward, with a final flash of a smile towards the woman, walked back to me.

Poor manager, I knew how she felt.

"There was a cancellation," he said by way of explanation. Not sufficient enough, I scowled, still confused.

"What are we doing now?" I asked, as I took his hand, standing up from the table as he started to lead me in a new direction. Yet again, eyes all over the room were unabashedly planted on us.

"Upstairs."

We walked up a narrow staircase, my free hand checking in with the railing every once in a while just to be sure as I was still not confident in the simple kitten heels Alice had forced on my poor feet.

It took me a moment to notice that this room was quiet; we had left the jazz music downstairs. The room was empty, but was equipped to seat well over a hundred people, plus a bar, and sort of a living room area near a grand piano, with a small wooden floor, presumably for dancing. I tried not to wonder how much it cost Edward to let just the two of us be here, if only for a few minutes.

"Private lounge area?"

"The Penthouse," Edward specified. He had not caught on that I was looking more for the reason why we were up there, less of _what _it was, exactly. But he said nothing more. Instead, he took me by the hand and together we sat down on an over-stuffed leather couch, facing the continued glass wall looking out over Seattle.

No words were exchanged between us, as we mutually enjoyed the moment. Some time passed before I felt his cool hand against my cheek, followed by his lips, which I turned to meet with my own.

"You're so warm," he whispered, putting his forehead against my own. "I'm going to miss that." I pulled away, his words threatening to remind me of all the things I still had left unfinished and weighing heavily on me before… the change. But he pulled me back, continuing. Pressing two fingers to my throat – looking thoroughly like a medical student – he found my pulse, and then on my wrist. "It will be so quiet without that too." I felt my cheeks beginning to flush and looked down. "That will be gone too."

There was no way to respond, so I simply let his musings float in the air. What could I say?

"So, you have to promise not to complain," he began.

"Depends on what it is." I interrupted, though I was struggling to hide my amusement at how Edward knew there was no point in bringing up certain conversations with me any other way than that.

"Bella," he growled, low and playful.

"Edward," I said back, scrunching up my nose in an attempt to imitate him back.

"Awful," he criticized.

"I think here in a month or two, I'll have some time to work on it."

"Promise?" he asked, not thrown off topic.

"Fine. Now give me my gift!"

Smiling at my enthusiasm, he pulled his hand away that had been encircling me and opened up his fist to reveal a small blue travel jewelry pouch. A very unique blue.

Oh, he did _not _get something from Tiffany's! I opened my mouth to protest, but remembered my promise.

I looked up at his marble face, unsure, but he nodded towards his hand, encouraging me to take the pouch.

Inside were the most exquisite earrings I had ever seen. The most exquisite _anything_ I had ever seen. Two yellow topaz stones – a karat each – encircled by twelve diamonds all mounted to form a pair of stud earrings.

I looked up at Edward, speechless.

"They'll match your eyes," he whispered, emphasis on the future tense.

I nodded, words still escaping me. Edward did not give me the chance to think of something, before he began to kiss me. It always surprised me that despite all the time we spent together, I still reacted to his kisses as though it was our first time. My heart raced and I felt my face flush again as I allowed myself to fall more into his touch.

He stopped – not abruptly, but still I would prefer if he never did. Gracefully, he stood up from the low couch and walked towards the grand piano, his long white fingers brushed a few keys.

"Are you going to play for me?" I asked, joining him near the piano.

"If I were to sit here and play, you'd have no one to dance with," he responded swiftly, gesturing towards the wooden floor.

"For an evening dedicated to me, this sure is a lot of what _you _want," I pointed out.

Without dignifying my accusation with a response, he whisked me to the floor and we stood for a moment. He began to hum my lullaby slowly and, though I had never had an ear for music, I could tell there was something different about the tempo. Then slowly, he gently took my arm, positioning it to rest on his shoulder. Putting one arm around my waist, he reached for my hand with his other.

Holding it away, I shot him a warning look. "You know I can't dance, so watch your toes!"

"I think they'll be fine." I continued to look at him warily. "Honestly, Bella. You're dancing with me remember? My toes will be fine. All ten," he reassured me seriously.

It wasn't until he stopped talking that I realized the lullaby had not come to an abrupt end when he began speaking. Edward had many inhuman qualities about him, though I had never known ventriloquism to be one of them. The song had to have been playing from some subtle sound system I had missed.

"Everyone is stealing my song," I whined, dramatically, as he spun me slowly and I cautiously let my feet obey.

"Bella," Edward scolded, his hand around my waist again, "don't fulfill everyone's expectation of a typical 'only child.' Share."

I had been right; the song had a new sound, waltz –like, I supposed to lend itself to dancing. I laughed at first as he counted slowly, encouraging my legs to take his lead, while reminding me to look up and not just stare at my feet, which was very tempting. There was a brief moment where I felt perfectly content, until I reminded myself we were going impossibly slowly and to any outsider it probably looked more like a man guiding a cripple than a couple waltzing.

He dipped me backwards on the last note, though my eyes never left his.

"I've never waltzed before," I whispered.

He laughed, loudly. "I wouldn't necessarily call that waltzing, it was not quite… traditional."

"There is not much about us that is traditional."

"True, love," he laughed, pulling me in to his chest. "The night is not over yet," he whispered.

"What more could there be?" I asked, astounded that there could be _more _to what I already considered too much.

"Another gift," he responded smoothly, letting go.

"Another one?"


	4. Chapter 4

When we reached the last step back down to the main part of the restaurant, Edward clamped an icy hand over my eyes, and wrapped his other arm around the small of my back, guiding me to the door

When we reached the last step back down to the main part of the restaurant, Edward clamped an icy hand over my eyes, and wrapped his other arm around the small of my back, guiding me to the door.

"I'm going to fall," I insisted, fighting the hand that was acting as a blindfold.

"Honestly, Bella," he laughed, scoffing at the idea.

We were now outside and I heard an unfamiliar car glide what seemed like only a yard away from my face and heard it come to a graceful stop. Suddenly, I was allowed to see and for a moment, I wished that Edward would put his hand back over my eyes and make it go away.

"What the hell is this?"

"It's a car, Bella."

The valet, forgetting his job for a moment, was clearly in awe of the vehicle. His hands remained stuck to the interior of the driver's door and gaping at whatever he could see inside. His shock had nothing on mine.

"Why is it…what?"

"A car," he repeated. "A wonderful invention, really, I'm surprised you haven't heard of it." I'm sure my face showed just how much I appreciated the sarcasm. "Forks is not known for its easily accessible or practical public transportation," he paused, waiting for a response. I didn't provide one. "Did you want to walk everywhere for the rest of the summer?"

"It's…" I struggled to figure out how to describe this black monstrosity of a sedan, "God, Edward, how expensive was it?! It's a..." I faded, suddenly realizing that the car was a Mercedes, like Carlisle's.

"It's a Mercedes _Guard_," he said. "Carlisle drives a S55, they're not the same thing." Sometimes I felt like he really could read my thoughts and that he'd just been messing with me this whole time.

"You'd be amazed by what the car can withstand. It's the foil to danger magnets, like you!" He laughed at his own joke. "Military-standard small-arms projectiles, hand grenade fragments, some other explosive charge…" Edward continued to tick off on his fingers the other things the car could supposedly withstand, though by the ominous look of the car, I doubt he was exaggerating. "There are some wonderful, additional, safety features, like run-flat tires and a fire-extinguishing system."

"What if I used it to try to run a vampire over?" I grumbled.

"What was that?" asked Edward, though we both knew he had heard me perfectly.

The valet, finally coming to his senses, quickly walked towards Edward and without even looking him in the eye, handed him the spare key. Edward quickly slipped him a bill, I tried to see whose face was printed on the bill, but both men were seemingly in cahoots to keep me from tallying up a clear total bill of the evening.

Edward dangled the valet's spare in front of my face, smiling, but instead I just turned my head slowly, narrowly avoiding a collision between my nose and the jagged edge of the key.

"I'm not driving it," I shouted, stubbornly.

We were beginning to catch looks from other patrons of the restaurant waiting for a table outside. Both keys still in his hand, Edward turned to look at our audience as well, as if he knew I had just realized their presence. Reading my mind, still. So frustrating.

"Do you want to know what they are thinking?" Edward whispered, low.

"No."

"That one there," he began, ignoring my response, nodding his head towards a tall, bird-like looking woman, "is wondering if we are even sixteen."

I snorted at the idea of Edward not being _old_ enough to have a driver's license.

"The short, round man on the other side of the door is replaying YouTube videos he's seen advertising this car in his head."

"Give it to him," I suggested lightly, gesturing to Edward's right hand.

"Drive the car, Bella," he said flatly. I turned to respond a vehement, "no," when something made me pause. I was lost in his eyes for a moment.

He asked for so little and did so much. The car was extravagant, but the thought was pure. And we all learned as children that it was the thought that counted, right? My mind swam for a moment as it became overwhelmed by his golden stare. His crooked smile was beginning to encroach on his perfect face, making me weak at the knees for a moment.

Damn his dazzling.

Extending my hand, I sighed. "Give me the keys." His brow furrowed as he hesitated for a moment. "What?"

"That was too easy. What's the catch?"

"Edward, if anyone else asked, I would say no. But its you. And I kind of like you."

"Well that's terribly convenient, because I'm thinking about keeping you around, for a while anyway," he grinned, taking my left hand, placing one key in my palm, then folding my hands around it. He held my hand for a moment, fingering my engagement ring, turning it round on my finger. "I guess I like you too."

Not caring we had an audience, Edward pulled me in to his marble arms and kissed me hard, his free hand tangled in my hair, Alice's curls now giving way to simple waves. Edward moved to my forehead, burying his face in my hair and took a deep breath. I could almost see Edward's smile, though it was out of my line of sight.

He was enjoying the bouquet.

--

Done, done, done! Sorry it took four chapters to do so! Anyway, thank you so much for those who read/reviewed/enjoyed it! I had fun writing it! So, review once more and then send it to a friend, hurray! 


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